


A Dark and Stormy Night

by purplesocrates



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Promise, ghost story, if you do not want spoilers stop reading tag now, spooky hannibal fic exchange 2018, there is major character death but it has a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesocrates/pseuds/purplesocrates
Summary: This is the moment, Will thinks, the moment in all the horror movies and books he has ever watched or read, the moment you are shouting at the idiot caught in a storm making his way to the large, imposing castle on the hill.  The one with the ivy and vines, the one with its own graveyard, the one with the huge gates that are inexplicably open.  The one where there is a monster inside waiting to devour you.  Yet here he is doing exactly that, as the freezing rain begins to pelt him through his clothes making him feel as if he will never be dry again.  He is shaking violently now and he can feel his teeth chattering.





	A Dark and Stormy Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilhouettedBowTie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilhouettedBowTie/gifts).



> Thank you to the wonderful life saver that is [carriebgoode](https://carriebgoode.tumblr.com/) for the emergency beta! I owe you awe and love.

  
This is the moment, Will thinks, the moment in all the horror movies and books he has ever watched or read, the moment you are shouting at the idiot caught in a storm making his way to the large, imposing castle on the hill.  The one with the ivy and vines, the one with its own graveyard, the one with the huge gates that are inexplicably open. The one where there is a monster inside waiting to devour you. Yet here he is doing exactly that, as the freezing rain begins to pelt him through his clothes making him feel as if he will never be dry again.  He is shaking violently now and he can feel his teeth chattering.  
  
He has no choice.  His car is a ways back and has died, there are no other buildings around apart from this dilapidated castle.  It might be abandoned. He figures that even if it is, it is still shelter. He has no choice. The only thing he has taken from the car is his phone, which does not have signal probably because of the storm, the charger for it and his large camera in its bag, which he shoulders awkwardly.  He reaches the large gates and pushes them open enough so he can slip through. There is a long driveway up to the main door. As he gets closer he can see through the rain and wind that there is a light on in one of the upstairs rooms. This is either a lifeline or his death sentence. He sighs and pulls his sodden coat closer around his shoulders and runs up the path.  
  
When he reaches the door he can see there is an old brass knocker with a lion’s head holding a large brass ring in its teeth.  Will grasps it and knocks it as loudly as he can three times. Of course as he does this thunder and lightning strike, and he really does feel like he is in a horror movie now.  He waits a moment, and then knocks again three times; this time he can hear the knocks reverberate through the house. It is then he hears locks being undone, clicking and clacking then finally the door opens slightly to reveal a man who peers around and sees Will stood there looking like a drowned rat and smiles.  
  
“Hi”  Will says his voice is shaky “sorry to bother you, my car broke down and my phone has no signal.  I was hoping you might have a phone?”  
  
The man opens the door wider and Will can now see he is an older gentlemen dressed in gray trousers, a white shirt and a very warm looking red sweater.  He has slippers on that have some kind of crest on them. His hair is silvery blond, slicked back away from his face. He has deep brown eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass.  Will is momentarily taken aback he was not  
expecting this, but then again he was not sure what he was expecting.    
  
“I do have a phone but it is down because of the storm, please come in and get warm, I have a fire.”  The man’s voice is accented and feels like a caress which makes Will shiver. He steps aside and gestures for Will to come in.  “Please come in, let me take your coat, you are soaking.”  
  
Will’s feet move towards the warmth before he even realises it.  “Thank you so much, I’m Will Graham.” He holds out his hand for the man to shake, he is shivering badly.  
  
“Count Lecter, Hannibal Lecter.”  The man shakes Will’s hand and he now knows he is in horror movie.  
  
‘You are a Count?”  Will says as he feels his hand being firmly grasped.  
  
“Yes indeed I am.”  The Count smiles and he has honest to god fangs.  “Not the vampire kind though I can assure you.” The Count says and Will laughs nervously.  “Let me take your coat, I can hang it up to dry while you come get warm.”  
  
Before Will has time to respond the Count is behind him, taking his camera bag and placing it carefully on the small table by the door then he sets about removing Will’s coat with firm hands.  He looks around as he realises he is stood in a huge entrance hall with high ceilings and a giant chandelier hanging in the centre. As he looks up the lights flicker and there is another loud crack of thunder and lightning.  Will decides to remove his shoes as well as they are covered in mud and still wet.  
  
The Count then ushers Will up the huge sweeping stairs to where Will can see an open door and the flickering light of a fire.  “Please go in I shall be right back.” The Count says and Will gingerly steps inside where he can see there is a huge stone fireplace, a family crest in the middle, and underneath, a roaring fire.  There are two large wingback chairs in front of the fire and a small table between them. The small table has books, a pair of glasses and a crystal cut tumbler with some kind of honey brown liquid in it.  The room itself appears to be some kind of library, the walls are completely lined with bookshelves crammed with old leather bound volumes. Above the stone fireplace there is a portrait of what looks like a member of the Count’s family possibly his father or grandfather.  It’s the kind of painting where the eyes follow you wherever you go.  
  
Will walks in aware he is dripping water everywhere but the shaking is now so bad it hurts and he can feel the warmth of the flames as his body gravitates towards them.  He stands by the fire and fold his arms across his chest rubbing his arms as he feels the heat from the fire. Eventually his teeth stop chattering he can feel his legs again.  The Count appears with a glass of something that smells divine he hands it to Will who takes it and smells it. “Cognac, to warm you up.” The Count explains as Will sips it and the smooth warmth flows down his throat.  
  
“Thank you.”  Will says as he takes another sip.  “I am sorry I am dripping water everywhere!”  
  
The Count laughs, a rich wonderful sound that causes crinkles to appear around his eyes.  “Not a problem.” Another very loud crack of thunder and lightning illuminates the room and makes the lamps flicker, the rain is now also thundering down against the window panes.  Will frowns as he looks out at the storm, it is clearly not letting up anytime soon.  
  
“Is this kind of storm normal around here?”  Will asks he is still shivering but less so.  
  
“It is a seasonal occurrence, usually once a year we get a large storm that can last a day or so.”  The Count’s voice is soft but Will’s eyes widen at this information.  
  
“A few days?!”  Will exclaims.  
  
“Yes I am afraid so, hopefully the worst will be overnight and the phone lines will be back on in the morning.  I believe the only reason I have power is because I have a back-up generator.” Just as he says this the lights flicker again. “It is struggling though.”  
  
Will takes another large gulp of his cognac as he tries to figure out what he is going to do.  “I should have checked the forecast. Damn!”  
  
The Count makes a sympathetic face “might I suggest you stay here for the evening and we can reassess in the morning.  I have some dry clothes you could borrow, hot water and plenty of rooms.” The Count gestures to the large house with a smile.  
  
“Are you sure?  I wouldn’t want to impose.”  Will knows he has limited choices and The Count seems charming and harmless enough but then again isn’t that what every horror movie villain is, right up until they’re not?  
  
“You look like you might get hyperthermia.”  Will shakes again. “I am a Doctor so I can see the signs.  I feel it would be irresponsible of me not to offer my assistance when it can so easily be given.”  
  
Will smiles at that and nods “thank you, perhaps I can pay you back in someway.  I am a photographer, I would love to take some pictures of this place.”  
  
The Count smiles “yes, perhaps.  For now please finish your drink and follow me I will show you to your room and bathroom.  I would recommend a hot bath and I shall bring some clothes for you.” Will smiles and nods, he finishes his drink and places the glass down on the small table.  “Not all of the castle has power, so I will show you the way and leave you the candle.” The Count is lighting a taper which he places into a gold candlestick holder.  Will follows him up another flight of stairs and down a long corridor, he takes out a jangle of keys and opens up the heavy wooden door almost at the end of the corridor.    
  
Once the door is opened Will enters with his candle which the Count gently takes so he can light the rest of the candles in the small room.  “Please come in.” he says and Will enters. There is a small bed with fresh white sheets and a comforter in a deep maroon, a few small cushions also adorn the bed.  There is a small desk and chair as well as an armchair by the window. The curtains are a heavy embroidered almost gold colour. Hannibal then opens the other door to reveal the bathroom, he goes inside and lights all the candles in there too.  He turns on the tap of the bath and places his hand under the water after a few moments he smiles “hot water is still working.” Will smiles and nods he feels unsure about what to say and is still shivering. “Fresh towels in the cupboard there, please take as long as you need.  I will find some clothes, there is a robe on the back of the door. May I suggest you change and leave your wet things in the bedroom and I will be by shortly with some clothes and I will take yours away to wash.”  
  
Will looks at The Count who is looking all the more ethereal in the flickering candle light and smiles. “Thank you so much, that is very kind.”  
  
The Count smiles and waves his hand, “not a problem.”  he places the candle on the small desk and goes to leave the room.  
  
“Won’t you need that?”  Will points to the candle.  
  
The Count laughs “no, I know my way around here like the back of my hand.  Could be blind and still know exactly where I was.”  
  
“Okay, thank you again.”  Will smiles lamely.  
  
The Count nods and leaves the room.  Will goes into the bathroom and strips off all his wet clothes which are now fairly sodden.  He wrings them out as best he can and then places them in a pile outside the bathroom door. As he runs the hot water he is shivering so puts on the robe hung up on the door while he waits for the tub to fill.  He closes the door and thinks about locking it but worries that would be impolite. Then again he is in a strangers house about to have a bath, so perhaps he would be stupid not to. He clicks the lock and sighs.    
  
Once the tub is full he removes the robe and sinks into the hot water, his skin tingles with the new sensation of heat and he hisses in some pain.  Soon though the soothing heat starts to defrost him and he can feel the warmth growing from inside, the shivering stops and the pale goosebumps disappear.  He sinks his head under the water to replace the cold wet on his hair with warmth. The tub is huge and he can stretch out in it easily. He cannot remember the last time he took a bath, relaxed like this.  It feels amazing, he wriggles his toes as feeling returns, closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of contentment.  
  
The weariness of his day is catching up with him and he suddenly feels exhausted and hungry.  He cannot remember the last time he ate something. Eventually his stomach persuades him to leave the lovely warm water, so he climbs out of the tub drying himself with one of the fluffy towels in the cupboard.  He puts the robe back on and lets the water out of the tub. Unlocking the door he opens it slowly to find the pile of sodden clothes gone and a selection of clothes laid out on the bed for him. Smiling he moves closer to look at what The Count has managed to find for him.  There are some shirts, sweaters and trousers as well as pyjamas which makes him smile. Included are also slippers, warm looking socks and some clean underwear all of which is very grateful for.  
There is a note placed on clothes in sloping script, please join me downstairs for some dinner.  Will picks up the card and runs his finger along the ink and the small embossed crest at the top.  Of course a Count would have personalised note paper.  
  
Will is hungry so dresses quickly and puts on the slippers provided.  He then blows out all the candles in the bathroom and the bedroom except the one he carried up here.  Making his way out of the room he stands in the corridor and can smell something delicious wafting up from downstairs.  The hallway is pitch black, the light from the candle only illuminating a small amount at a time, Will wonders how on earth Hannibal found his way around.  He makes his way down the corridor, the paintings illuminate as he goes, there are some of a young girl very pretty and some of the Count and other members of his family.  All oil and in large gold gilded frames. As he reaches the end of the corridor where the beginning of the staircase dips down he thinks he sees movement at the other end of the hall.  He turns and holds the candle up to see if he can see anything. He peers into the gloom but there is nothing. Shaking his head at his paranoia he starts to descend the stairs.  
  
As he goes down three stairs he stops because he hears someone singing.  He holds the candle out again and listens. It sounds like a small girl singing, a lullaby in a language he cannot understand.  He is about to call out-  
  
“Will?  Are you okay?”  He looks down the stairs and the Count is stood at the bottom holding a candle.  
  
“I thought I heard something.  Is there anyone else here? A Child?”  Will asks but he cannot hear the singing anymore.  
  
The Count walks up the stairs so he is closer to Will “no it’s just me I live here alone.  What did you hear?”  
  
Will looks back down the corridor but there is nothing.  He sighs and shakes his head, he turns to face the Count “it was probably just the wind.”  
  
The Count smiles “come and have some dinner with me.  You will feel better with food in your stomach, a glass of wine perhaps?”  
  
Will’s stomach answers with a growl and he laugh “yes, yes that sounds perfect.”  So the Count leads Will down two flights of stairs back to the large entrance way.  They then make their way through a hidden door in the side of the staircase that leads to a basement and just when Will thinks this is it, this is where he gets murdered by a Count in castle, they turn a corner and a large kitchen is revealed.  “The lights work down here.” The Count says as he blows out his candle and takes Will’s to do the same before placing them on the sideboard. The kitchen is a large long room with a big wooden table and chairs in the middle. There is a huge oven and hobs all of which look modern and expensive.  
There is a huge fridge as well and lots of cupboards.  
  
“Please take a seat.”  The Count says and Will walks further in he can smell something wonderful cooking in a large pot on the hob.  There are two places set at the table, the silverware is gleaming. “I hope you are not vegetarian.” The Count says as he goes to the sideboard and pours two glasses of red wine from a decanter.  
  
Will shakes his head “no, not not all!  That smells delicious.”  
  
The Count smiles and brings over the glass of red wine “from my cellar should pair nicely with the game stew.  I always start one when the storm begins, keeps me going.”  
  
Will takes the red wine and smells it before sipping it.  He does not know much about wine but whatever this is it smells and tastes divine.  Hannibal places his red wine glass at his place before busying himself serving two bowls of stew with what looks and smells like homemade bread.  The Count places a bowl of steaming hot stew in front of Will who moans in delight at the smell.  
  
“Thank you once again, I did not realise how hungry I was.”  Will lowers his head and smells the stew.  
  
The Count places a small plate with bread on it next to him.  “It has been a long day for you I suspect? There is butter there if you require it.”  
  
“Thank you so much.”  Will says as he places his napkin on his lap and digs into the stew.  “This is delicious.” He can feel that even his bones are warm now. The bath, food and wine have restored him and he is beginning to feel like himself again.  
  
The Count has sat down now and is smelling his wine before taking a sip, a satisfied smile on his face.  “So Will what brings you to this part of the world?”  
  
Will smiles “accent and complete inability to navigate the weather give me away as not a local?!”  
  
The Count smiles and nods sympathetically.  “We do not get many travellers around here, you mentioned you were a photographer is that what brings you here?”  
  
“Actually yes, well, yes and no.”  Will takes a sip of his wine its like liquid velvet he hums his approval.  “I am here to take pictures yes but also I am a bit of a.. shall we say ‘history buff’.  I travel around the world documenting places people may not know well, unusual historical sights that sort of thing.”  
  
The Count smiles knowingly “ah.”  
  
“I was heading to the church just outside the town when I got caught in the storm.  I have been in touch with the Vicar there.” Will reaches across for the butter and begins to spread it thickly on the soft bread.  
  
The Count nods.  “Ah yes Mr Chilton he has been there many years and always loves to talk of the old times.”  The Vicar is usually hard to get to stop talking especially to Hannibal who as far as he is concerned is living history. “You are not the first around here, but I have to say it has been some time since we have had anyone has investigated this area.  What made you come here?”  
  
“I was doing some research about the second world war and the displacement of people, it seemed as if not much had been written about Lithuania especially the older parts.  All these wonderful old buildings and villages which got swallowed up. I started to read more and this area just called to me.” Will has been drawn to the darkness of the area, the rich history, there were so many stories just waiting to be told.  
  
“You must of course have heard of my family then.”  The Count says his voice as even as he can make it as he is beginning to suspect that Will turning up here was not entirely by accident.  
  
Will picks up his wine glass takes a sip and then carefully places it back down again.  “I will admit yes I have read about the Lecter’s but this was not how I was planning on introducing myself.”  Will looks The Count in the eye as he speaks. “I was going to have the vicar introduce me to you. I promise this was not planned, I really am this much of an idiot to get caught in a storm!”  
  
The Count laughs and Will cannot help the smile that comes across his face at the sound. “I believe you!  Well at least you are here now so you can ask me anything you wish.”  
  
“That is very kind of you.” Will is pleased that at least he has not managed to completely piss the Count off after he has been so generous to him.  After a pause Will decides to ask him about what he experienced earlier. “When I was in the corridor by the bedroom I thought I heard something.” The Count has an odd expression now and Will thinks it is perhaps a little sadness and regret.  “I thought I heard a girl singing.”  
  
“Yes, I hear it too sometimes.  I have been told by others as well who have stayed here.”  The Count’s voice is low and soft it makes Will feel an aching in his heart.  
  
“I am sorry if I have brought up something painful.”  Will aims his voice soft and as he tries to catch the Count’s eye.  
  
“I like to think it is perhaps Mischa Lecter.”  The Count says a rueful smile on his face. “I do not know if it is.  This is a very old castle, many memories and people are stored in these walls.”  
  
“Mischa Lecter.  She was your sister?”  Will remembers looking at the family tree the Vicar sent him.  “Sorry I have seen your family tree.”  
  
The Count nods “yes indeed she was.  It is fine it is common knowledge what happened to our family.  What happened to her.”  
  
Will is surprised by that comment as far as he looked he could not find anything definite on what happened to Mischa.  “I knew she had died but I not how.”  
  
The Count raises an eyebrow “I suppose it it common knowledge around here.  I am surprised the Vicar did not fill you in.”  
  
Will tries to think that the Vicar said but he finds he cannot quite recall, it has been a long night and the wine is probably going to his head. “He sent me the family tree but he did not mention anything else.”  
  
“Perhaps it is too dark a tale for a man of the cloth.”  The Count says rather ominously.  
  
Will feels that feeling of being in a horror movie again he can see the darkness in the Count’s eyes now, something shimmering and deep.  “I am sorry to have brought it up.”  
  
The Count takes a deep breath and looks at Will “please do not apologise.  If you heard her then I am sure it is a sign. Would you like to hear the story?”  
  
Will’s eyes brighten despite himself “yes I would, if you are willing to tell it.”  
  
The Count takes another sip of his wine and begins his tale.  “We were ambushed here, we had managed to keep them out for most of the war but as the servants left and there were fewer of us, less food, diminished resources, we became more and more desperate.  The castle and grounds are vast when there are only a few people here it is hard to keep the wolf from the door. They came in the night and they killed my parents instantly. I heard them, and managed to get my sister from her room and we hid.  This castle has many places to hide if you know it well. So we hid from them for as long as we could.  
  
“You have to understand that even the wolf was desperate at this point.  The winter had been the coldest and hardest anyone had seen in a lifetime.  There was no food, there was no warmth, only cold and hunger. So they used what they could.  They killed my parents because they were hungry. We could smell it through the house, the roasting meat.  It made our stomachs growl.  
  
“We were found eventually, exhaustion having taken us and I had slept, my guard was down and they found us.  They dragged both me and my sister out and beat us until we were bleeding. I watched them hurt her in ways I will not speak of.  She suffered greatly before she died and I was powerless to stop any of it. All I had left was my rage which grew and grew in me, it made me strong, it made me fearless.  I waited and waited until the opportunity arose and I got away as they were about to end my life and consume me.  
  
“I roamed the forest and bided my time.  They would come out for firewood or to hunt for me or any starving deer or anything else that might be left in the wilderness.  One by one I took them out. I do not remember much about that time; it was a dark time I felt as if I was possessed by something else, but I know now it was just the will to survive nothing more.  That can be strong enough on its own. I hunted them all down and in the end they all died.”  
  
Will listens to this story with a dark fascination, when he looks at the Count he can see a darkness lurking inside.  He covered in shadows, Will can see something moving underneath, something not quite human and is both repulsed and drawn in by it.  He shivers.  
  
“I was found eventually, a feral thing in the woods half starved and crazed.  They sent me to a hospital and I stayed there until I was found by my Aunt who took me in and raised me.  Once the war was over I found my way back here.”  
  
The Count seems softer now the shadows are less and Will cannot see what he saw before, he just sees a man who has seen more than his share of heartbreak and pain in his life, a man haunted by his past.  “That is quite the story.”  
  
“Yes, not for the faint hearted.”  The Count says his voice a little lighter now.  “I am afraid mine is not the only dark tale around here.  The history here is steeped in blood, many people have worse stories than mine.”  
  
“Why did you come back?”  Will asks, he is not sure he could revisit his past let alone live in it.  
  
The Count sighs “I could not seem to leave my past behind no matter how far I travelled.  This place called me back. The thought of it in ruins left me sad, before the war this place was beautiful I wanted to restore that.  Heal those wounds. It is strange I agree, but there are a lot of good memories here too.”  
  
“What about anyone else in your family?  Your Aunt?” Will wonders at why the Count is alone.  Someone of his standing is usually surrounded by people.  
  
The Count frowns “it is just me now.  My aunt lives in Japan she will not come here.  The rest of the Lecter’s have all died out I am afraid.  I never married, no children either.” He looks regretful and Will feels that ache again in his chest.  “Last of my name.”  
  
“There is still time.  You could still have children.”  Will thinks of his own line dying out too, he is also the last of his name but that is more of a comfort, if he is honest, than a burden.  The Grahams were always more trouble than they were worth.  
  
The Count shakes his head, a sad smile crosses his lips “I am too old, too set in my ways.”  
  
Will smiles and looks at the man across the table he does not look old, Will can see a strength there underneath that belies his age.  “Never too late they say.”  
  
“What about you?”  The Count asks. “Do you have a family?  Children?”  
  
Will grimaces he has never been good at relationships, he bores too easily.  He has never felt understood, always changing for the other person, never being able to be himself.  Then again he is not sure being himself is a good thing. “No, no family, also the last of my name. My Father died a few years ago,  my mother left when I was young, no siblings or children.”  
  
“We are both alone in the world then.”  The Count smiles as he says this and raises his wine glass.  “To finding each other in a storm.”  
  
Will smiles at that and feels another wave of warmth flow through his chest.  He picks up his wine glass and clinks the Count’s. “I will drink to that. Thank you..”  Will pauses for a moment. “What do I call you? Count? Count Lecter?”  
  
He laughs “Hannibal is sufficient.”  
  
“Well thank you Hannibal, for everything.”  Will drinks from his glass as Hannibal nods and sips the last of his wine.  
  
Will also finishes his wine before eating the last of his stew.  There is silence between them but it is strangely comfortable and Will can feel himself relaxing.  He yawns and Hannibal smiles. “I have kept you too late. You must be exhausted, let me escort you to your room.”  Will laughs at Hannibal’s words. “Just in case of ghosts.” He says only half joking.  
  
“Thank you, yes I am starting to feel weary.”  Will stands and attempts to clear the plates but is ushered away by Hannibal who lights the candle again and leads Will up the stairs.  As they go back up they can hear the storm once more outside it is raging even stronger now and Will frowns praying it blows itself out over night.  When they reach the large entranceway there is a huge rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning that illuminates the whole room is bright white flash.  Will must be tired because as the the flash happens he sees Hannibal look older, his hair white and the lines on his face so much deeper, still those dark eyes though.  As soon as he sees it Hannibal’s face returns to normal. Will shakes his head and follows Hannibal up the stairs to his room.  
  
Once inside Hannibal uses the candle to light a few of the other candles in the room and in the bathroom.    
  
“I shall light the fire for you it can get cold at night.”  Hannibal says and opens the doors of the woodburner where there is a fire already laid.  Will does not comment on it; perhaps he keeps them all like this. Hannibal lights the fire with a taper and it begins to roar to life, he stands up, blows the taper out and closes the doors of the woodburner.   Will smiles and thanks him. Hannibal places the taper down on the desk and goes to leave.  
  
“Are you sure you do not need a light?”  Will asks as another crack of thunder fills the room followed by another bright flash.  
  
“I will be fine Will, as I said, if I was blind I would still be able to walk these halls as if I could see.”  he smiles and Will can see the lines on his face a little deeper in the flickering light.  
  
“If you are sure.”  Will says.  
  
“If you need anything my room is one floor down second door on the left.”  Hannibal says and goes to the door.  
  
Will takes a step towards Hannibal and gently touches his arm “thank you Hannibal, for everything, I really appreciate it.”  
  
Hannibal simply nods and leaves the room closing the door behind him with a click.  Will stands by the door listening to the retreating footsteps for a few moments feeling slightly bereft.  He shakes his head and decides he really needs some sleep. He turns and looks at the pyjamas laid out on the bed for him and smiles. Pyjamas are not something he usually sleeps in but they look warm and he the thought of being cold again feels him with a slight trembling fear.  Will changes into them and uses the bathroom leaving one candle burning so he can find his way in the night if he needs to. He then blows out all the candles in the bedroom so it’s just the firelight flickering in the room. He gets under the covers and stares up at the ceiling.  
  
He can hear the storm even louder in the darkness, strange how it always focuses the mind.  The rain is coming down hard and constant now, the wind in the trees is a loud whooshing sound.  He hears the crack of thunder and counts down to when the lightning strikes, something he used to do with his father when he was a kid.  Eventually he counts that the storm is moving off a bit and he feels a little relieved. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths.  
  
It is not long before he falls asleep, his body exhausted and the wine having pushed him over the edge.  He drifts comfortably despite the storm outside. For the first few hours he sleeps soundly barely moving at all.  As the embers of the fire die down and the room becomes darker with only a slight flickering warmth he starts to dream.  It is indistinct at first, like mist and smoke. There is a silver thread that changes to a warm red as it leaves his hand, it is pulling him towards someone. There is a lingering warmth and touches, a familiar pleasure, comforting.  As his lips part a slight murmur leaves his mouth, soft with heat as his skin begins to glisten. He can feel a pliant mouth against his, a shape that fits so perfectly, a tongue that tastes almost exactly like his own. He can feel the weight of a familiar body, a remembered scent lingers so distinctly as another murmur, louder now, leaves his lips.  
  
Gentle scrapes, hands that know his skin, his body, his heat as if it were their own run up and down his body.  There is no part of him that is not touched, kissed and worshipped, it feels like he is being opened up, like he has been discovered, as if he something to be savoured.  His murmurs are turning to moans now, low and lilting utterances of lust and need. He can feel his whole body responding to this feeling, as if every element of him has been touched with a deep pleasure.  It becomes almost too much as if he might burn up from the feeling, suffocating with lust. He calls out as the wave crashes and he feels that explosion of ecstasy spread through his body. The red thread seems to be entwined around him now, sinking into his skin with a hot burn.  
  
Will wakes up with a start, he sits up and finds he has been sweating, he still feels that lingering warmth.  The room is still dark but there is just enough light from the fire and the candle in the bathroom that he can see he is alone.  He looks around to see if the door is still closed; it is. He gets up slowly and makes his way to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face to wake up.  It is then he feels the wet between his legs, he looks down and he has ejaculated in the night, on Hannibal’s pyjamas. He feels a wave of hot embarrassment wash over him.  A wet dream! He has not had one of those since he was a teenager!  
  
He removes the pyjama bottoms and top as both are covered in his sweat as well.  Rinsing them out as best he can in the sinks before leaving them to soak he will hang them up in the morning.  He takes the robe from the bathroom door and puts it on. Leaving the bathroom he checks the time on the clock on the fireplace it is still early in the morning just after three.  He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. The storm is still raging outside, no thunder and lightning but lots of wind and rain. He can hear the window rattling and that whooshing sound is even louder.  Will climbs into bed once more and curls up with the blankets wrapped tightly around him, closing his eyes he once again falls into a peaceful sleep.  
  
Will wakes to a soft knocking on the door.  “Will?” He looks at the clock and can see it is almost nine, he cannot remember the last time he slept so late. Another soft knock “may I come in?  I have brought you some tea.”  
  
Looking around the room, everything begins to come into focus as he wakes up.  The fire has gone out now, the wind is still rushing outside but the rain has stopped.  “Yeah, sorry.” He manages as he realises he is his robe, he remembers waking up last night and a blush colours his cheeks.    
  
Hannibal opens the door he is holding a small tray with one hand that contains a china teapot, a teacup and saucer, a small jug and a bowl. He smiles when he sees Will.  “Did you sleep well?”  
  
“Yes, yes I guess so I do not normally sleep this late.”  Will says as he adjust the robe so he is slightly more decent.  
  
“I am just glad the storm did not keep you awake.”  Hannibal places the tray down on the small desk and turns to look Will.  “I found a small vanity kit unused.” Hannibal says and takes a black pouch from his pocket.  “Thought it might be useful.” He places it on the desk next to the tea. “Best to let it steep a while.  When you are ready I have breakfast in the kitchen. I am afraid the phones are still down but we can eat and perhaps they will return.”  
  
“Thank you Hannibal, that is kind.  I won’t be long and thank you for the tea.”  Will feels awkward and the way Hannibal is looking at him is not helping, he is probably wondering why he slept in the robe.  “If you were wondering about the robe. I tried the pyjamas but I had a...bad dream and I had to change. I’m sorry.”  
  
Hannibal smiles and waves his hand to dismiss Will’s worries.  “No problems. I am sorry you had a bad dream, the storm can do that.  Please join me when you are ready, no rush at all.” With that Hannibal leaves and Will finds himself staring at the door after him.  He shakes his head from his revelry and gets out of bed. Making his way over to the small desk he picks up the black pouch Hannibal has left him he opens it and inspects the contents.  A toothbrush, some toothpaste, some smart looking toiletries and aftershave in small bottles and packets. It looks like the sort of thing you get on an airplane in first class, not that he has much experience of that.    
  
Will decides he needs a shower so goes into the bathroom, first he wrings and hangs up the pyjamas on the towel rail.   He strips off the robe and hangs it back up. The shower is one of those that is attached to the tap of that bath, a shower curtain runs around the bath which he pulls after he has stepped in.  The water is warm and soothing he uses the soap that was by the sink to wash himself. He feels better as if the water is washing away the remnants of a strange night and the previous day. It was just the storm as Hannibal said he is sure.  It’s easy to be paranoid when you are in a strange castle in the middle of nowhere with a Count, plus a storm raging outside.  
  
Once he is done and dried off, teeth brushed and hair as tamed as much as possible he goes back into the bedroom where he sees Hannibal has dropped off his clothes, freshly laundered, on his bed.  He smiles, this is like staying in a hotel, again not that he has much experience of that. Turning his attention to the small desk and pot of tea waiting for him he pours himself a cup and adds milk and a spoonful of sugar.  Usually a coffee person he needs all the help he can get. The tea tastes soothing and he feels restored already. He dresses while finishing his tea, he puts on the slippers again as his shoes are still in the hallway.  
  
Carrying the tray he makes his way down to the kitchen.  In the day light the castle looks even more vast, the corridor of his room seems twice as long and the entrance hall cavernous.  He can see now that the corridor of the first staircase is also vast and there are many more rooms. Once down in the entrance hallway he can see there is another hallway off to the left which also looks like it goes on for miles.  This place must be huge. He wonders how Hannibal manages it all by himself. Perhaps he has staff to come in and help usually. He finds the door which leads down to the kitchen, the lights seem to be working now and, on the whole, things seems much less ominous.  He can hear Hannibal pottering about in the kitchen before he sees him.  
  
“Morning, thank you for the clean clothes.”  Will says as he enters the kitchen. Hannibal smiles widely at the sight of Will he makes his way over and takes the tray from him.  “Thank you also for the tea.”  
  
“You did not have to bring this down but thank you very much.”  Hannibal says as he places the small tray by the sink to clear later.  He gestures to the table where two places are set, and Will can see there is a toast rack with toast, orange juice, butter, various jams and preserves as well as a basket of what looks like freshly baked danish and a large bowl of fruit.  “Please sit help yourself. I was going to make some eggs if you like? I usually like them scrambled with some sausage if you would care to join?”  
  
Will can now see the large skillet on the hob and the bowl of beaten eggs and plate of chopped sausage ready and waiting.  “That sounds amazing. Quite the spread you have here.” Will does not wonder why Hannibal has so much food if he lives alone, perhaps he is just prepared with the storm.  He takes a seat and pours himself an orange juice.  
  
“Would you like some coffee or more tea?”  Hannibal asks as he begins to heat the butter in the skillet.  
  
“Coffee if you have it would be lovely.”  Will is relieved he is not sure how he could have survived without his caffeine fix.    
  
“There is a pot brewing on the side there, please help yourself.  Cream and sugar are on the table.” Hannibal begins to coat the pan with the butter, Will is temporarily distracted by his hands.  He comes to himself and gets a mug of coffee, he offers one to Hannibal, who nods a ‘yes’ as he pours the eggs into the pan. Will makes them both coffee and returns to sit at the table.  Hannibal is adding the sausage to the eggs, the smell of it cooking makes Will hum in approval.  
  
Once the eggs are done they eat at the table together and Will feels oddly comfortable as if they have been doing this for years.  “How do you manage this place on you own?” Will asks eating his eggs, which are delicious.  
  
Hannibal smiles “I have help, an army of cleaners every week and some tradesmen on stand by from the village.  Usually there is someone here fixing something or cleaning something I am very rarely alone.” Hannibal’s days are usually filled with just keeping track of who is in the castle and what needs fixing next.  “When the forecast came through with the storm I told everyone to stay away. When the weather is like this we all tend to batten down the hatches. Once it has cleared I can assess the damage and there will once more be an army of people holding this place together.  Perhaps after breakfast I could give you a tour.”  
  
“That would be wonderful.”  Will is intrigued by this place and he is sure Hannibal has many more stories of the history of the area.  May as well make his time useful while he is here.  
  
As promised Will follows Hannibal through the castle.  He tells him about his family, how long it took for the castle to be built, how many people it took.  The original Count had been the sole source of income for most the village who worked on the surrounding farm lands, which used to belong to the castle as well, or in the castle itself.  There are twenty three bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, a whole floor of servants quarters and bathrooms, two kitchens: but only one with the modern fittings which Hannibal uses. There are three different pantries, but only one is used regularly, the rest are used for storage.  There is the small study, where Hannibal was reading the night Will came, there is also a much larger and extensive library on a split level, huge old map drawers with maps of the local area dating back to the 14th century. There is a huge dark wood table for reading and two fireplaces, one at each end of the room.  Its is Will’s favourite room by far.  
  
There is also a grand ballroom which is now used for storing the many works of art, furniture and things that need to be restored or fixed.  There is a huge chandelier in the middle which is probably worth more than the castle itself.

 

“Have you ever had balls here?” Will asks as he thinks idly that he can imagine the Count being a good dancer.

 

A strange look of sadness but also joy comes across the Count’s face as he is lost in a memory for a moment. “I am afraid no one has danced in these halls for many years.”  Will thinks there must be more to that response but seeing the look in the Count’s eye he does not push. “Come there is much more to see.” The Count says and leaves the room.

 

The corridors are filled with paintings of Hannibal’s family and all the various Counts and their children.  “Where are the ones of you?” Will asks, as they head down the corridor towards the main entrance way.  
  
Hannibal laughs “there are many of me as a child with Mischa, most of those are on the corridor where you are staying.  By the time I was old enough and had enough money to come back, the tradition was out of fashion.” Hannibal carries a large ring with many keys with him which jangles as he walks.  “I tend to think of myself as caretaker rather than a Count. The title has much less meaning that is used too.”  
  
Will smiles at that and remembers his camera which is still on the table.  He goes to it he should check to see if it is dry and still working. “perhaps I could take your picture,”  he takes out the camera and looks through the finder removing the lens cap it seems to be fine. “I know it’s not the same as an oil painting but it would be nice for you to be recorded amongst your heritage.”  
  
“Perhaps.”  Hannibal looks a little awkward at the sight of the camera.  “I am afraid I try to avoid cameras wherever possible, hate to be shown my age.”  
  
Will looks at him stood there, a handsome older gentlemen if he ever saw one, well put together not a hair out of place and laughs.  “You look better than most people ten years younger, I think you do not give yourself enough credit.” Hannibal laughs and smiles bashfully which Will tries not to find devastatingly handsome.  In the daylight the true beauty of the man is sometimes almost painful to look at. “I will be kind I promise.”  
  
“If you insist.”  Hannibal says with a smile.  
  
“Do you have a favourite room?  Perhaps the small study?” Will asks he wants to capture Hannibal in a place where he feels most at home.  “Or the kitchen?”  
  
Hannibal laughs “I think perhaps the kitchen would not be becoming of a Count as I am not supposed to prepare all my meals myself!”  
  
“A rebel Count I love it!  Okay so the study then? By the fireplace?”  Will can see Hannibal there under the painting of his ancestor.  “Under the painting of who is that? Your grandfather?”  
  
Hannibal pauses a moment before answering “indeed.  Yes that could work.”  
  
“Brilliant.”  Will says and he grabs the bag with the rest of his equipment in it and follows Hannibal up the stairs to the study.  There is only one small window and the light outside is still dark and stormy. Will had not really noticed it so engrossed in Hannibal’s company but the rain is still falling heavily and the wind seems stronger than ever.  Looking outside as he parts the curtains he wonders if any of those old trees will last the day.  
  
Hannibal seems to sense his thoughts and is standing close behind him “you would be surprised at how may storms those trees have weathered.”  
  
Will feels a shiver of something done his spine with Hannibal stood so close.  “Yeah I guess they have been through all of this before.”  
  
“Indeed.  Not much light in here I can light the fire and turn the lamps on see how we do?”  Hannibal says still stood close behind Will.  
  
“Yeah lets see what we have to work with.”  Will says and turns so he is facing Hannibal, this close Will can see all the lines of his face, the crinkles of his eyes, the slight leatheriness to his skin.  He is still beautiful perhaps more so with all the character of his years. They seem to get caught a moment looking at one another, and for a the briefest of seconds Will feels like he can sense something else behind those brown pools.  As soon as the feeling is there it has gone and Will smiles as Hannibal goes about lighting the fire. Will turns on all the lamps and opens the heavy curtains as wide as they will go.  
  
It takes a while for the fire to get going so Will sets up his tripod and checks the light levels while Hannibal watches with interest.  “I don’t have my light with me but I think we should be alright.”  
  
The fire is now roaring and creating some lovely shadows in the room.  “Where do you want me?” Hannibal asks and Will has a sudden flash if his dream last night, a sheen of sweat breaks across his brow he pretends to busy himself with the camera for a moment to catch his breath.  
  
“By the fire, maybe a hand on the mantle.  On the left, my left.” Will says and eventually looks up to see Hannibal standing rather awkwardly with his hand on the mantle, he looks as if he should be holding a walking stick.  Will has no idea why that thought crossed his mind as Hannibal is as strong and capable as any man ten years his junior. “Arm down actually, turn to the side slightly and then look past my shoulder.”  
  
Will adjusts the camera on the tripod and clicks a few times taking a some test shots, he check the image in the display and the lighting is better than he thought it would be.  In fact Hannibal’s skin looks almost luminescent. He is a striking looking man and it seems as if it is impossible to take a bad photo of him. Will zooms in slightly to get a close up of his face, those cheekbones could really cut glass.  
  
“How is it?  Do I look ancient?”  Hannibal says only half joking, there is hope and worry in his eyes.  
  
Will laughs “you look great honestly.  You photograph very well.” Hannibal smiles and he has that abashed look on his face again which makes Will feel a little light headed.  “Perhaps we could try some more casual ones, you reading perhaps in the chair.” Will looks and the book which was there last night is still resting with a leather bookmark in it, reading glasses in an open case beside it.  
  
“I will defer to your expertise.”  Hannibal says with a smile and sits himself down elegantly in the chair, crosses his legs and picks up the book.  “Glasses or no glasses?”  
  
Will ponders this “try them for me?”  
  
Hannibal nods and puts them on.  He looks good with glasses but Will worries that Hannibal will think it age him.  “Let’s go for not, the reflection is distracting.”  
  
“I shall just pretend to read then.”  Hannibal says somewhat sardonically.  
  
Will laughs “yes no one will know!”  
  
“As you wish.”  Hannibal opens the book and pretends to read.  Will takes the camera off the tripod and moves around a bit taking pictures from a few different angles he checks them after a while and is pleased.  
  
“Would you like to see?”  Will says with a grin. Hannibal retrieves his glasses and stands up so he can look over Will’s shoulder at the pictures as he scrolls through them.  “What do you think?”  
  
Hannibal frowns “you take a good picture Will Graham, these are rather flattering.”  
  
Will feels a warm feeling of pride take over him and he grins “glad you like them!  It is nice to be able to pay you back for all your kindness.”  
  
“It is my pleasure, I have enjoyed the company.”  Hannibal says his voice gentle and soft. “I usually weather these things out alone.”  
  
Will cannot help but smile at the pun.  “Glad to keep you company in that case.”  
  
“Well I believe it is lunchtime.  Would you mind if I went to prepare some food for us and get a head start on dinner.  I can check the phone lines again, but with the wind still up it is doubtful.” Hannibal says breaking the tension between them.  
  
“Can I help?” Will offers.  
  
Hannibal holds his hands up in protest “absolutely not!  The kitchen is my domain!”  
  
Will laughs “well perhaps if you do not mind I could have a look in the library I would love to take some pictures of the maps and of the library itself.”  
  
“You are welcome to roam anywhere you wish.  I shall come and find you in the library when lunch is ready.  If you get hungry before then you know where to find me.” Hannibal smiles and makes his way to the door as Will dismantles the tripod.  “Oh I would perhaps avoid the east wing beyond the library it’s a little dilapidated and I do not know what damage the storm had wrought.”  
  
“There is an east wing?”  Will says as if the part Hannibal had shown him this morning wasn’t huge.  
  
Hannibal laughs “this castle holds many secrets, be sure to watch where you tread.”  With that he leaves and Will feels that strange shiver again.  
  
Will takes his camera and makes his way to the the library.  When he is alone the castle seems even more vast and the portraits on the walls even more intimidating.  He can hear the wind now and the rain has started up, in fact it sounds more like hail. Looking out of the window he can see the castle grounds are covered in debris from the trees.  The sky is darkening and he can feel the electricity in the air again it will not be long until the thunder and lightning start up.  
  
He makes his way to the library before he gets there he sees the entrance to what must be the east wing. A large heavy door. Will tries to open it he isn’t sure why he just needs to. It is locked though, so does not budge. He places his palm against the wood and feels a strange sense of familiarity and perhaps longing. He shakes the thought away and turns again to the library and instead opens that large wooden door to the cavernous room.  
  
The lights are flickering again and Will frowns and wonders if this storm is ever going to end.  As he closes the door behind him he hears that singing again faintly but it is there. He holds his breath for a moment to really listen and there it is soft on the air like a warm breeze.  It makes him smile and he lets out his breath turning around he sees her on the top level of the library. She makes him jump and he steps back with a gasp, hitting the door. She doesn’t move she just stands there smiling.  She is young, wearing a pale blue dress, holding a ratty looking teddy bear, blond curls and pale skin, she smiles at him and he blinks. “Mischa?” He says and takes a step forward. She brings her finger to her lips as if to shh him and then she disappears.  He can hear her song faintly for a few more seconds before that too fades.  
  
Will has seen a few ghosts before doing his investigations of historical places but that was definitely one of the more startling sightings he has ever witnessed.  He feels a little cold but mostly he is not afraid she meant no harm, at least he does not feel she did. Will stares at the spot where she was standing for a few minutes longer in case she comes back, but he feels alone now.  Sighing he goes to the map drawer and takes out one of the maps to look over. He soon becomes absorbed in the information and takes pictures of each one making connections to the stories he has heard, things he knows about the geography.  It is fascinating to see how the area has changed and in other ways how it has remained the same for thousands of years.  
  
Having placed his camera down on the table, he is engrossed in looking at one of the older maps of the castle and surrounding grounds; he does not immediately notice the feeling of someone stood close behind him.  A chin rested on his shoulder, arms wrap around his waist, a familiar warmth of a body he knows as well as his own pressed up against him. A small nip to his ear, words hotly whispered “you always were fascinated with this one.”  He smiles and leans against the body turning around still in the embrace he feels lips almost touch his own. Will comes to, looks around to find he is alone.  
  
The door opens and Hannibal enters, Will whizzes around and as his hand flies to his chest he can feel his heart beating a million miles a minute.  “Hannibal!”  
  
“Are you alright?”  Hannibal says making his way over to Will, “you look as if you have seen a ghost?!”  
  
“I did earlier, I think but just then I…”  he doesn’t know what happened, it felt like his dream.  “I saw Mischa up on the other level and then I was looking at this and I felt...something behind me...I don’t know.”  
  
Hannibal gently touches Will’s forehead, it is a little clammy.  “I think you caught a chill yesterday after all. Sit down a moment.”  He helps Will to one of the larger armchairs at the side of the room. “You need to rest.”  
  
“I saw her, as clear as day. Mischa.”  Will sits down, he is glad of it as he is starting to feel a little light headed, perhaps Hannibal is right and he did catch a chill yesterday.  
  
“She used to love this room, my father said we were not allowed in here and she would sneak in anyway.”  Hannibal smiles at the memory. “It does not surprise me you saw her here. I have a few times too. What else happened?  You said you felt something else?”  
  
Will frowns as he tries to put into words what he felt it was as if he had slipped into a memory of something that had never happened, or fallen into someone else’s life.  It was strange to be haunted by someone else’s ghosts. “I thought someone was stood behind me but when I turned they had gone.” He doesn’t mention the nuzzling or whispering. “Is there more than one ghost that haunts this place?”  
  
Hannibal laughs “yes, many I believe!  Are you sure you are alright?”  
  
“I think I just had a shock I am sure I will be fine.”  He feels lightheaded, and he can still feel that warm breath on his ear. He shivers.  
  
Hannibal frowns “hmm I think you need to rest.  I can bring you up some tea and something to eat.  You should have a lie down.”  
  
Will looks up at the concerned face of Hannibal and smiles he cannot remember the last time anyone took care of him.  “I am sure it is nothing.”  
  
“I insist, let me help you.”  Hannibal helps him up and Will is grateful for the assistance as he does feel unsteady on his legs.  They make their way to Will’s bedroom stopping a few times so Will can get his balance back he is starting to feel worse by the second and he can feel his temperature getting higher.  By the time they make it to the bedroom Will’s fever is really beginning to worsen. Hannibal helps him undress, seeing the still wet pyjamas in the bathroom he retrieves a fresh pair and helps Will change into them.  Will is put into bed and Hannibal places a cool, damp cloth on Will’s forehead before adding a few more blankets to the bed. “Rest now I will be back to check on you with some tea.” Hannibal’s voice is soft as Will closes his eyes and feels the pull of sleep.  
  
He dreams slowly at first, blurred images, only parts and fragments made clear to him.  A feeling of connection, soft at first, a thread, thin and shining it grows as it seeks out its anchor.  Will can feel it reaching and reaching, the colour changing from silver to a deep blood red. He sees it reaching across time, space, continents and seas, it flows over them all like a river.  The thread gets wider and stronger the pull on him even harder. Everything speeds up, things race by him in a constant blur.  
  
Then it stops.  
  
He is standing at a door he recognises, heavy wooden, brass knocker, a lions mouth.  There is rain and thunder, lightning strikes hard close by and he is cold. So cold and shivering.  With shaky hands he knocks just as he did before, just as he has done a thousand times in his mind because this dream is one he has had since he was a child.  He could not remember it before, it bled from his mind the moment he woke up. Now he is here, now the thread has wrapped itself around something. He tries to look but the image is blurred.  Then he feels soft hands graze his face, even softer lips touch his own. He opens his eyes and can see the thread wrapped around Hannibal it gleams.  
  
He wakes up with a start, the dream slips from him as he tries to remember it.  Just that feeling of being pulled remains, of being pulled over vast distances to finally arrive here in this place.  It makes him unmoored. He looks at his bedside table there is a jug with water, a glass and his camera is placed there.  Will sits up and pours himself some water and drinks it quickly, he leans back and feels his own forehead it is still clammy but he feels less lightheaded now.  Clearly Hannibal helped him change as he looks down and finds he is wearing new pyjamas that he does not remember putting on.  
  
Placing the glass down on the bedside table he picks up the camera and turns the display on to look at the pictures he took this afternoon.  There are many of the maps and the library, some good ones but none do the room justice. He then gets to the ones of Hannibal. The light seems to hit his face at just the right angle in every shot, he looks as if he glowing from the inside.  Will smiles as he scrolls through then something looks strange, he presses the zoom and sees the shadow of a girl by Hannibal’s hand as if she is holding it. The shadow is faint but Will suspects it’s Mischa and he has got some evidence of a haunting this will be great for the book.  As he zooms back out Hannibal suddenly looks older for a moment, grey hair and even deeper lines but as soon as he sees it the image returns to normal.  
  
The bedroom door opens and Hannibal enters “how are you feeling?”    
  
“Oh hi, come in, better I think.” Will places his camera back on the bedside table as Hannibal enters with a tray that has more tea and what smells like soup.  “That smells amazing.”  
  
Hannibal smiles “I am glad you are feeling better.  This is chicken broth and some lemon and ginger tea.”  He places the tray over Will’s knees.  
  
“Thank you again I am so sorry I have been so much trouble.”  As Will speaks Hannibal places his hand on Will’s forehead again, a soft brush.  
  
“Your temperature is still up but you have a bit more colour in your cheeks.” Hannibal moves the armchair so it facing the bed and sits down.  “I think you must have caught a chill.”  
  
Will has started to eat the soup “this is delicious.”    
  
Hannibal smiles at the praise and watches as Will consumes it, colour returning to his cheeks slowly but surely.  “I am afraid I checked the phone line again and it is still down. The forecast is for another bad night. The radio is still broadcasting the emergency announcement so I am afraid you are stuck here for another night.”  
  
Will frowns “I am sorry to be imposing on you, but I have to say I would like another chance to explore the library.”  
  
Hannibal laughs “yes it has that effect once it has been seen it is hard to resist the lure of it.  I would suggest finishing your meal and then perhaps some more rest. I can wake you in a few hours and if you are feeling up to it I am sure we can spend some time in the library this evening and in the morning.”  
  
“That would be wonderful.”  Will has almost finished his soup; he did not realise now hungry he was. He then remembers the camera “oh I think I caught Mischa on camera.” He reaches for the camera and turns it on, offering it to Hannibal, who stands and takes it from him, scrolling through the pictures.  
  
“A strange shadow indeed but perhaps not definitive proof of the supernatural.  The shots you got of the library are wonderful.” Hannibal hands the camera back to Will and sits back down in the armchair.  “You are very talented, how long have you been a professional?”  
  
“Thank you.”  Will responds, strangely glad to have pleased Hannibal.  He thinks back as to how long, he remembers as a child he would always be taking pictures of his father and the other fisherman.  The docks and the boats. He always had a camera in his hand. “I am not sure now.” He is finding the more recent memories harder to reach; must be the fever, he thinks.  
  
Hannibal smiles and notices that Will’s eyes have a slight trance like quality to them, he stands up takes the tray.  “You need rest. I will leave the tea here should you want it.” Hannibal takes the tea and places it on the bedside table.  “Rest and I shall wake you later.”  
  
Will is already starting to doze off as Hannibal leaves him.  He mumbles a thank you as he gets more comfortable in the bed, his eyes close and he falls into a deep sleep.  It is not long until the dream begins again, soft touches, gentle whispers, that red thread is like hot silk against his skin as he feels it pull and pull him towards Hannibal.  Opening his eyes in the dream he can see Hannibal standing hand outstretched for him to take. The thread flows from his own fingers to Hannibal’s like a blood line. Every step he takes closer he feels a sense of calm, of completeness and love fill him from his bones to his skin.    
  
His hand eventually reaches Hannibal’s their fingers touch and intertwine.  Will feels a blossoming inside of himself, a flower with softer than velvet petals that seems to bear Hannibal’s name touches him everywhere.  A soft moan escapes his lips as he feels Hannibal pull him closer, arms wrapped around him, they kiss as if they have been kissing for lifetimes. Hannibal begins to move him in a dance and Will feels himself laugh as he is whisked around. It feels as if they have always known each other, as if they are always travelling towards each other.    
  
Will wakes to the fire in his room having been lit and a fresh cup of tea left with a note from Hannibal saying to meet him in the study when he is awake.  Smiling he sips the tea which soothes him, he feels his forehead and it is much less clammy now. He gets out of bed and uses the bathroom, splashes water on his face and then gets changed into his clothes from earlier.  Hannibal has left him a candle so he can find his way down the stairs.  
  
It is dark outside now and the storm is, as Hannibal predicted, raging outside the wind is battering against the glass.  Will makes his way down the stairs holding the candle out so he can see. He sees that the study door is a little ajar, the fire burning warmly in the fireplace.  Stepping inside he can see Hannibal reading in the chair, glasses perched on his nose. He looks so still and beautiful in the flickering light of the fire. As Will steps further in Hannibal notices him. He closes the book, places it on the table and goes to greet Will.  “You are awake. How are you feeling?” As Hannibal reaches Will, he places his hand on Will’s forehead who unconsciously leans into the touch. “Your fever has broken, that is a relief. Come and sit down.” Hannibal removes his hand and Will tries to ignore the feeling of missing his touch.  
  
Will makes his way to the other armchair as Hannibal takes the candle from him and places it on the side.  He pours Will a cognac and hands it to him “medicinal” he claims and Will laughs but takes the glass anyway purposefully brushing Hannibal’s fingers with his own.  Hannibal goes to sit down in the other chair he picks up his own glass of cognac and sips it.  
  
“You were right about the storm it still sounds pretty bad out there.”  Will says as he feels the cognac warm him.  
  
“Yes I hope that tonight it will blow itself out but one never knows this time of year.”  Hannibal says this mostly to the fire.  
  
Will is watching Hannibal’s profile in the firelight and trying not to be transfixed by it. “Do you think there will be much damage?”  
  
“I hope not we always prepare as best we can, batten down the hatches but there is usually some damage.  I hope it’s not the roof.” Hannibal says with a grimace.  
  
“You mentioned the east wing.”  Will asks thinking of earlier and that strange connection he felt. “Is that usually where the damage is?”  
  
“Yes it is the oldest part of the castle and no matter how much time and money I spend it always seems to be leaking or collapsing.”  Hannibal sips his cognac and continues to stare into the fire.  
  
“Are you alright?”  Will asks as Hannibal seems a little melancholy.  
  
Hannibal smiles and turns to look at Will “yes, yes my apologies I think it was you seeing Mischa.  It has been sometime since I sensed her presence.”  
  
“I am sorry I didn't mean to upset you.”  Will feels awful and realises he has been less than sensitive to the memories bringing up his sister would have awakened.  
  
“Dear Will, you have nothing to apologise for, an old man is often prone to melancholy.”  Hannibal smiles and this time it reaches his eyes. “You have been wonderful company.”  
  
Will frowns “you are not an old man you should stop saying that.”  
  
Hannibal laughs “you are kind.”  
  
“You saw those pictures you are not old, you worry too much.”  Will means it: he finds Hannibal very beautiful and is surprised he does not see it.  
  
Hannibal looks at him his expression unreadable “you think so?”  
  
“Yes.  You look very good.”  Will smiles. “Not just for your age!”  
  
“Ha!”  Hannibal laughs.  “Well I thank you for appealing to my vanity.”  
  
Will is starting to wonder what Hannibal sees when he looks in the mirror because when he looks at Hannibal he sees beauty, stark and wonderful.  “Why did you never marry?”  Will asks he is not sure why this question leaves his mouth.  
  
Hannibal smiles and looks at Will with a warm expression “I was close once but it just never worked out. That seems to surprise you?”  
  
“Yes, in all honesty it does.  A man of your standing and good looks.”  Will is not sure where this boldness is coming from but he feels as if he has known Hannibal for so much longer than a day.  He also feels like he wants to know more.  
  
Hannibal smiles “flattery will get you everywhere.  What about you? Why have you not married?”  
  
Will shrugs and stares into the fire “I guess I am a perpetual bachelor. Never met the right person.  I travel too much I think.”  
  
“You need to find someone to travel with you.”  As Hannibal says this Will has a strange sense of dejavu come over him, he can see a red thread in his mind’s eye and he starts to remember a vague impression of a dream.  
  
Shaking his head to dispel the thought.  “Yes, or someone who does not mind waiting.”   As soon as Will says it the feeling gets stronger, that he has been here before, that this has happened before.  
  
“Are you alright?”  Hannibal stands up and goes to Will, kneeling down in front of him, he reaches his hand out to cup his face.  “Will what is it?”  
  
Will leans into the touch, his eyes close briefly before he opens them again to see Hannibal surrounded by that red thread once more, he looks down and he can see it coming from his own hands.  “I can see…”  
  
Hannibal smiles and leans towards Will and slowly kisses him as that thread winds its way around them both.  Will can feel a lifetime of memories coming back as Hannibal kisses him, he remembers now, he remembers it all.  They part from the kiss and Will can see Hannibal has tears in his eyes “you remembered.”  
  
Will can see now that Hannibal is an old man, he is still beautiful, the lines on his face, the silver of his hair do nothing to diminish him.  “You are my soulmate.”  
  
“As you are mine.”  Hannibal can see all the memories rushing back to Will as his own tears begin to fall in earnest.  “You died, many years ago and I waited, I waited for you to come back to me.”  
  
“In the storm,  I was trying to get back to you...I...got caught and then I was ill…”  Will remembers it all now, the fever, the days of uncertainty, Hannibal taking care of him, watching him fade.  
  
“I tried to save you but you were too ill, your fever moved too fast and I could not get help, the storm…”  Hannibal is crying now in earnest as he remembers watching Will fade from him, powerless to stop it just like with Mischa.  
  
“It wasn’t your fault...oh Hannibal please don’t cry.”  Will brushes the tears away from Hannibal’s eyes. “The east wing that was where my studio was…”  
  
“Yes.”  Hannibal nods, “I shut it up after you died, I could not bare to see your pictures.”  
  
“My love, oh my love I am sorry I left you.”  Will is also crying now as he remembers their life how they used to dance together. “We would dance together.”  
  
Hannibal laughs through his tears “we would dance through the halls just because we could.”  
  
Will can feel it all and he understands now, he understands what Hannibal was waiting for.  Why he was waiting. “You are going to die too.” Will whispers the words as tears fall down his face.  
  
“I had to wait, but now after I have gone we can be together, as we were when we first met.  Forever.” Hannibal stands and takes Will’s hand they stand up together. Will can hear Mischa singing again as Hannibal embraces him.  “Dance with me. We have a few minutes until it happens.”  
  
Will smiles through his tears as Hannibal starts to move him side to side.  They dance in the firelight as Mischa sings softly. The castle around them begins to crumble, the storm outside is calming, as the moon appears bright and full in the sky.  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos keep me warm at night xxx


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